Surrounded By Darkness
by Cori-Ackles
Summary: Kurt's back at McKinley, and no matter how much he hoped things would be different, they're not. When the pain becomes too much to bear, can Blaine step into the darkness and be his knight in shining armor? Or will he be too late? KLAINE
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: Okay, so, first attempt at writing a Klaine fic, because if I'm being honest with myself, I've become addicted. Darren Criss=Love, Chris Colfer=Love, and Baby It's Cold Outside=Love, which means Klaine=HOLY CRAP LOVE! So, basically, here is my love coming out in writing form! LOVE**_

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Cold. Wet. Two of the most generic and useless words in the English language, yet they were the first to come to Kurt's mind when he received his third slushie facial of the day. Blue syrup dripped from his eyes, stinging his retinas until they burned. His lithe body was vibrating with anger and resentment towards Karofsky and Azimio as they high-fived and swaggered away.

He had thought it might be better now, after he had been gone from McKinley High for so long, but to his dismay, it seemed things had gotten worse. Without their resident flaming gay around, the school seemed to have grown more homophobic than ever. Now that Kurt was back from his stint at Dalton Academy, he realized that things had really gone to the dogs.

The buzzing of his cell phone made Kurt look down, and with sticky hands he pulled the small piece of technology from his pocket. _Blaine_. The name stared up at him, mocking him, asking if he wanted to read the text that had been sent to him. He hadn't spoken to Blaine much since leaving Dalton, feeling that a clean break would be easier for him to handle than the idea of what little he had with Blaine petering off until it was nothing more than another awkward name to scroll by on his contact list. So, without reading whatever Blaine had written, Kurt hit delete. And the message went away. He closed his eyes. A clean break. But why did have to be so _hard_ to leave Blaine behind?

"Hey _lady boy_," Karofsky sneered, his face inches away from Kurt. Kurt shied away automatically, the stench of meat and onions wafting off of Karofsky's breath.

"What do you want?" He tried his best to sound sassy and confident as normal, but somehow the normalcy didn't come. He just sounded hollow and tired. Exactly like he felt. Karofsky just grinned cruelly, and Kurt realized with mounting horror that the halls were empty. Clearly he had spent longer than he thought musing over the text from Blaine, as the bell had rung and classes had begun. It was just him and Karofsky, which was never a comforting thought. Without so much as a word, Karofsky grabbed Kurt by the collar and began dragging him towards the school doors. He tried to struggle, but it was really useless. He would have shouted for help, had Karofsky not noticed his mouth opening and slammed a hand ruthlessly over his soft lips. Kurt winced as he felt his tooth dig into his bottom lip and tasted the first metallic hint of blood.

Once they were outside of the doors of McKinley, Karofsky gave him a brutal shove, which ended with Kurt sprawled on the hard pavement, blue slushy still drying on his face. Karofsky's face twisted into something that must have been a smile, though it was truly too demented for Kurt to really be able to tell. Before he could even think to do something, Karofsky had kicked him square in the stomach.

Kurt's torso exploded with pain, and he instinctively curled in on himself to protect the now throbbing area of his body. It seemed that his tormentor barely noticed the look on his face as he wrenched Kurt up off the ground and sent him careening into the brick wall of the high school.

"You think you can just come back and we'll pretend like none of that ever happened?" Karofsky snarled, his eyes glinting with malice. "Think you can flaunt that little gay personality of yours again, Hummel?"

"Yours is just as gay as mine," Kurt retorted angrily, pain making his teeth clench. "Remember _that_?" The absolute fury on Karofsky's face was something that Kurt had never seen. Too late did he realize that was one thing that he should never have brought up. Next thing he knew, Kurt was being slammed against the brick wall harder, the back of his head cracking against the hard brick.

"I'm no _fag_," Karofsky ground out, and then drew back a fist. With easy familiarity did his fist meet with Kurt's cheek, cutting the skin above his cheekbone. Involuntarily, Kurt let out a whimper of fear and pain. "Come on, _girl_! Scream for daddy!" the manic glee in Karofsky's voice showed just how much enjoyment he was taking from Kurt's helplessness. In response, Kurt simply clamped his mouth shut. There was no way he was giving this filthy cretin the pleasure of hearing him cry or beg or scream. Blaine's voice came unbidden to his mind, echoing one word. _Courage_.

"Courage," Kurt whispered, and then drove his knee up with all the force he could muster, sending his kneecap right into his tormentor's groin. Karofsky doubled over, falling to his knees; and Kurt tried to make a break for it, but was tripped by a cruel hand clamping around his ankle.

"You're gonna pay for that one," Karofsky managed through gritted teeth, and Kurt felt actual terror spike in his blood. The look on Karofsky's face was downright murderous, and if he was being honest with himself, he wouldn't put murder past this madman.

The next fifteen minutes of Kurt's life were some which were a blur, but he would never forget. He would never forget the utter agony that filled him when Karofsky finally dumped him in the dumpster and headed back into the school. He lay there, limp against the horrible-smelling garbage bags, and stared up at the peacock blue sky. It was as if the cheeriness of the warm Ohio day was taunting him, showing him that despite his agonies, everyone else was having a great day.

Three slushies. One dumpster. And one beating that felt as though it had bruised and battered every inch of his body. Kurt began to vibrate again, tears beginning to blur his crystalline eyes as he continued to stare up at the perfect sky. How long he lay there for was uncertain to Kurt, though he knew that at some point the school let out. He could hear the students as they made their ways to their cars, could hear Finn chatting with Artie, could hear Rachel complaining about her lack of solos in Glee Club. His blood chilled when he heard Karofsky walk past, guffawing over something with Azimio. But still he laid there. Bits of garbage were tossed into the large bin, no one noticing the boy laying there, his Marc Jacob's jacket stained with slushie and rubbish, his skin mottled with already forming bruises. Blood beaded out of the cut on his lip, leaking onto his tongue, but he didn't bother to wipe it away. What was the use? Tomorrow would only bring the same outcome.

That was what did it. The snap. That taste of blood and knowing that he would be tasting that same blood every day for the rest of his high school career. That was what made Kurt Hummel finally snap. He grabbed painfully at the edge of the garbage bin and agonizingly hoisted himself out of the debris. His legs were wobbly at best when they finally made it to ground, and each movement he made brought utter anguish to some part of his body, but he was no longer thinking straight. Everything was blurred, though whether it was due to the tears in his eyes or the blinding headache was undeterminable.

Kurt drove home unsteadily, somehow managing to reach his home without crashing, and staggered inside the house. Finn shouted a 'hello' from somewhere in the lounge, probably in front of the TV, but Kurt didn't respond. Instead, he stumbled down the steps to his bedroom and slammed the door shut, locking it.

The first thing he did was strip out of the ruined jacket. Then realizing that everything he wore had some form of stain on it, Kurt began tearing at his clothes in a frenzied hurry. Soon enough he stood in only his boxers, shivering and crying. Next he limped to the bathroom and wrenched the shower tap onto its hottest possible setting. Without caring that the water was scalding, he divested himself of the rest of his clothing and stepped under the spray.

It was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was like each and every bruise that had been left on him was suddenly on fire, and unwillingly, Kurt let out a small scream. The water was boiling, turning his skin almost instantly red, pelting him relentlessly with the blistering streams of water. The faint sound of Finn calling his name was barely registering in Kurt's mind over the mind-numbing pain of the shower. He scrubbed frantically at his hair, trying to get rid of every last hint of slushie. Nothing seemed to help; it was like he was still being doused in the slushie. Suddenly desperate, Kurt scrabbled at the temperature dials, trying to turn the temperature to an even hotter level so that it might eliminate that feeling of cold, slimy slushie slipping down his skin.

The water was as hot as it would go, burning into his skin, yet still not hot enough. Tears streamed down Kurt's cheeks, mixing with the piping water as it fell like rivulets of lava down his porcelain skin. Now the sound of a pounding door could be heard over Kurt's hiccupping sobs, and reluctantly, he turned off the shower.

"Kurt! Kurt, are you okay?" Finn's frantic voice was bellowing; the pounding must have been his fist on the door. Kurt shuddered, suddenly picturing Karofsky standing there, his expression that of a lunatic, his fist slamming against the door. _Open up, gay boy!_ He would leer, _Can't hide forever!_

"Go away!" Kurt heard himself scream, wobbling as he clambered out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his slim waist. "Leave me alone!" Nearly pitching to the ground as he rushed across the wet bathroom floor, Kurt got to his room and began tearing through his drawers, searching.

"Are you okay? Kurt! Open the door!" Finn shouted, which only made Kurt cry harder. "Come on, man! What's going on? I heard you scream!" Kurt felt like screaming _now_, as he tore apart his drawers, searching desperately for the one article of clothing that would make him feel better in that moment. He felt so desperately like screaming that it almost didn't surprise him when a shriek rang out from his lungs.

"Where is it?" he screeched, his voice breaking with emotion.

"Kurt! Open the door now!" The sound of Finn's shouting seemed to mingle with the imaginary roar of Karofsky. Terrified, Kurt wrenched the drawer he had just emptied out of the dresser and threw it at the door. The crash was a satisfying sound, and it shocked Kurt that he could do that. Finn was silent. Trembling with exertion and fear, Kurt yanked the next drawer out and emptied its contents on the ground. He hoisted the empty drawer over his head and hurled it at the door. This one made an even louder crash. There on the ground was the simple grey t-shirt he had been searching for. Jerkily, he wrenched it over his head.

"Stay the hell away from me!" Kurt shrieked, his voice sounding nothing like its usual angelic melody. Now it just sounded cracked and broken. _Broken_.

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_**AN: So that's it! I apologize now for the lack of Blaine in it, but I PROMISE YOU that this is a Klaine fic through and through! This part happens to be more K than laine. More to come soon, don't you fret!**_

_**Cheers!**_

_**Cori**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: Oh my gosh! The response to the first chapter was overwhelming! So many story alerts! Problem: only four people reviewed! I *thrive* on reviews! So if you like it, please review! Special thanks to kurtXBlaineKlaine, CGazuu, WickedForGood13 and PhilologyFTW for reviewing! Thanks also to everyone who read it and added to your favorites, story alerts, etc. Enjoy the next chapter! BTW, I don't know if I mentioned before, but this was going to be a one-shot that basically mutated, so it won't be super long. Please enjoy!**_

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Finn was nearly at his wit's end by now, and that was saying something. The tall boy paced back and forth, his eyes furtively glancing at the cream coloured phone sitting on the counter. His mom and Burt had specifically told him to call them if anything happened, and despite wanting them to have the best possible honeymoon they could, Finn was almost positive that Kurt having a breakdown classified as _something happening_.

He reached for the phone, the same way he had several times within the last ten minutes, but then retracted his hand. What would he say? _Hi mom, how's the honeymoon going? No, I'm fine, but I think Kurt's snapped._ That would go over so well. Agitated, Finn ran a hand through his short hair. This was why he preferred to stay away from drama. He had no idea how to handle it properly. Was he supposed to keep trying to convince Kurt to open the door? Or should he try ramming the door down with brute strength again? The twinge in his shoulder told him that the second idea was a bad one, but each time he had tried to talk to Kurt, something else smashed, and he hadn't calmed down for a longer period of time. Something was seriously going on in that room, and it terrified Finn to think what it might be. There had been on and off screaming all afternoon, and honestly Finn had no idea what to make of it. He sighed and went back to Kurt's bedroom door. He rapped on it as quietly as he could muster.

"Kurt?" he asked in his softest voice, trying to sound soothing. All that met him was what sounded like a chair being thrown at the door and the sound of muffled sobbing. _Yeah_, something was definitely happening. Before he could lose his cool, Finn headed for the phone. That was it; he was calling Burt and his mom. Honeymoon or no honeymoon, he needed help.

The sound of something buzzing stopped him, however. The soft tunes of _Teenage Dream_ filtered through the distant sounds of Kurt crying. Frowning, Finn wandered over to the front door where Kurt's bags had been tossed to the ground. Half falling out of one of the pockets of his book bag, sat Kurt's phone, the source of the tune. Cautiously, Finn picked it up. _7 New Messages_. Finn bit his lip. Would this be considered going over his boundaries as a step-brother? At the sound of something else crashing and more screaming starting again, he threw all caution to the wind and slid open Kurt's cell. The first thing he noticed was that every message was from Blaine, that kid at Dalton. The next thing he noticed was the content of the messages. _Why aren't you texting me back? Are you okay? Seriously, Kurt, what's going on, you're supposed to have your phone glued to your hand at all times._ They were all similar, each expressing worry in what was wrong with Kurt. Instinctively, Finn assumed that Blaine had something to do with this meltdown, and quickly hit the call button on Kurt's phone. He answered on the second ring.

"Geez, Kurt! Way to scare a guy! I thought you'd fallen off the face of the earth or something!" Blaine laughed breathlessly into the phone as though he had raced to get to it.

"This isn't Kurt." Finn's voice was flat and accusing. Instantly, the tension was thick in the air.

"Finn? Why do you have Kurt's phone?" Blaine sounded honestly confused, his tone betraying nothing but concern. The sound of another crash made Finn flinch. "What was that?"

"That was Kurt." Finn replied shortly, "And I want you to tell me right now that you had nothing to do with my brother breaking down."

"What? Oh my god, is he okay? Dammit! I should have known something was up when he wouldn't answer my messages!" Blaine sounded absolutely distraught. Another scream echoed through the house, and Finn could hear it seep through the receiver. "Is that him?"

"Yes."

"Oh god, Finn, you have to believe me that I had _nothing_ to do with this!" Finn wanted to blame Blaine, it would have been the easiest since he was technically part of an enemy Glee club, but the absolute distress in his tone made it clear that Blaine had no idea what was happening. He sighed, and realized that if anyone might be able to decipher his moody stepbrother, it would probably be this boy from Dalton.

"I don't know what's going on with him," Finn admitted, letting anxiety seep into his tone, "He came home, next thing I know he's screaming in his room and won't let me in! He's locked the door and I'm positive he's throwing stuff in there. I've known Kurt for two years and have _never_ seen him throw a fit like this." Blaine listened quietly, tension thick.

"Let me talk to him."

"He's not really _himself_ right now. I honestly doubt that he'll want to-" Finn tried to reason with him, but Blaine was a man on a mission.

"Please. Let me try." His words were short, but the concern was evident in every breath he released. Finn hesitated, but then nodded, forgetting that Blaine couldn't see him. Carefully, he walked back to where Kurt was crying in his room.

"Kurt?" Finn called softly, rapping gently on the door. The most agonized voice either boy had ever heard came echoing from the recesses of Kurt's room.

"Go away! Just leave me alone!" The short intake of breath from Blaine's end of the receiver told Finn that he had heard.

"I'm coming down there." Blaine's voice was hard and determined, and Finn could hear him saying quiet goodbyes to whoever he was with.

"You live two hours away, dude," Finn responded, flinching at the sound of another crash.

"Clearly Kurt's in trouble right now and I promised him that I'd always protect him. That includes against bullies, homophobes, and occasionally himself." The resoluteness of his words made Finn pause. The Dalton boy obviously cared for Kurt, more than he had realized.

"Alright. Get here as soon as you can. And Blaine," he coughed awkwardly, "Thank you."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Blaine replied, and then hung up the phone. Finn closed Kurt's phone, wincing at the sound of his stepbrother's renewed cries. What could Blaine possibly do to make this better? Was it a mistake calling him? It was beyond Finn as to how Blaine could help while Kurt's stepbrother couldn't. Was there more to those two than met the eye? Finn looked back, pondering this sudden new idea. Kurt always smiled when he talked about Blaine, got that particular gleam in his eye when the Warbler's name came up. Were they _together_? No, they couldn't be, because if there was one thing he knew, it was that he and Kurt were close now. His stepbrother would have told him if he found himself a boyfriend. The sound of another chair being thrown made Finn flinch slightly. Then again, maybe they weren't quite at the sharing and caring stage just yet. Finn obviously had no idea what was going through that boy's head half the time, which meant he could have no idea what was causing this meltdown. Was it something Blaine could understand because he was gay too? Or was it because they both so obviously had the hots for one another? He closed his eyes with a groan. All this contemplating Kurt's possibly existent love-life was starting to give him a migraine. Silently, Finn prayed to Grilled Cheesus that Blaine would get there soon, no matter the reason.

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_**AN: There you have it, Chapter 2! Hope you all enjoyed! PLEASE REVIEW!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**_AN: So, apparently all I needed to do was ask for reviews! You know what they say, ask and you shall recieve! And boy did I ever! Thank you all so much for your reviews! Each one made me squeal. Literally. I may have gotten strange looks from passerbys. So, I know its later than I said it would be, but here it is. The final installment. I know, it's been short, but as I said before, it was going to be a oneshot but it mutated. BY THE WAY! I didn't give a shout out to the fact that THEY FINALLY KISSED! *does happy dance* I screamed. And fell off of my couch. And then screamed again. Blaine was so romantic! So perfect! I want one... _**

**_Without further rambling, here is the final chapter! Enjoy!_**

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The instant Blaine had hung up the phone, he rushed out of the commons room where he had been hanging out with Wes and David. _Kurt, Kurt, Kurt_, it rang through his mind like a mantra, everything else ceased to matter in the sound of Kurt's crying. He shuddered as the sound of the crashing echoed through his mind. What could have happened to make Kurt snap like that? He shook his head, bounding up the stairs two at a time to get to his dorm room quicker.

He burst through his door, startling his roommate who had been sitting on his bed with earphones in. Blaine ignored him as he tugged off his uniform blazer and yanked on a comfortable black hooded sweater. After snatching up his car keys, Blaine was out the door again, practically flying down the stairs in an attempt to be hurried. The instant he was in the car, Blaine had his foot like a leaden weight on the gas pedal, peeling out of the student parking lot.

Despite knowing that he was technically breaking _several_ Ohio State laws, Blaine sped down the highway, dangerously passing other cars, practically oblivious to the honking horns that surrounded him. For the first time in ages, no music blasted over the speakers of his car, as he was certain that he wouldn't have been able to hear it over the roaring in his ears. _Kurt, Kurt, Kurt_. It was like he had tunnel vision, every little piece of his mind was focused on the small countertenor who had stolen his heart without realizing it.

The drive from Westerville to Lima seemed to drag out forever, despite actually being half an hour shorter than usual due to Blaine's desperation to get there. When he finally pulled up to Kurt's house, however, he suddenly had no idea what to do. _Kurt, Kurt, Kurt_. Determination sunk in. This was Kurt. _His Kurt_, and he needed his help.

The car door slammed behind him as Blaine climbed out of it. His feet were hardly still on the ground for a moment before he was racing towards the Hudson-Hummel household. His breath came out in short puffs, nerves making him almost jittery. His fist pounded powerfully against the door, and for once, Blaine Anderson was not worried that he might be acting ungentlemanly. All he could worry about was Kurt.

The front door swung open, and instinctively Blaine craned his neck to look into Kurt's stepbrother's face. Finn had never appeared so frazzled to the young Warbler. His face was ashen, his hair sticking up in every direction from running his hands agitatedly through it. His brown eyes were terrified, and he looked no more naive to the danger than Blaine himself.

"Blaine," Finn breathed with relief, and then stepped aside to let the panicking older teen through. Blaine hurried in, his eyes darting around for any sign of Kurt. There was none.

"He's still in-" he was cut off by Blaine's fierce glare, who then listened intently. He could only hear only his own ragged breathing. Aside from himself and Finn, the house appeared to be dead. Nothing had ever terrified Blaine more.

"Where is his room?" he demanded furiously, eyes wild with fear. Finn seemed to catch the urgency and all but ran down the stairs to where a pristine white door was closed. Or, perhaps it was what _could_ have been a pristine white door had there not been dents in it from where Finn had clearly tried to break the door down. There was no sound beyond the door, a jolting difference from the screaming and crying which Blaine had heard through the phone earlier. Breathing heavily, he steadied himself before knocking softly. "Kurt? Kurt, you in there?" no sound meet his gentle words. He rattled the door handle, only to find that it was locked. "Kurt? It's Blaine!" The strain was seeping into his voice as still no response was heard. He rattled the door handle harder. "Kurt! Answer me, come on!" still nothing. Futilely, Blaine began to throw his bodyweight against the door.

"What are you doing?" Finn demanded, grabbing Blaine's arm to stop him. "I think he might be finally asleep!" Blaine shook himself free of Finn's iron grip, gelled hair rumpled.

"Kurt talks in his sleep," he replied stonily, "and even if he _was_ asleep, he's a light sleeper. That would have woken him up." Blaine rand a hand through his hair, making it even messier. "Something's seriously wrong." He knocked again, softer than before, and then rested his forehead against the wood. "Kurt, _please_. It's Blaine, you gotta talk to me. Let me in." He strained his ears for any kind of response.

A small whimper, almost inaudible, was enough to send Blaine into a panic. He looked down at the door handle and saw a small lock. Frantically, he dug in his pockets, praying for a miracle. He got one. Out emerged a small, seemingly harmless bobby pin. Ignoring Finn's confused look, he began to pick the lock with fierce determination. His hands shook as he worked the lock, a skill he hadn't tested in years. There was no movement on the other side of the door, something which worried him immensely. Finally, a low click signalled that he managed to unlock it. Slowly, he turned the knob and the door swung open. The fear of what he might find on the other side disappeared instantly disappeared the instant his eyes landed on Kurt.

He was curled up on the floor, surrounded by debris of furniture, papers and decor. His slender arms were wrapped around his knees, which he had pulled up to his chest. Kurt's usually immaculate hair was ruffled, his clothing simple as an old t-shirt and a pair of the loosest jeans Blaine had ever seen him wear. It hardly registered that the t-shirt was a Dalton Academy regulation t-shirt which Blaine had lent to him one night for an all-nighter, because the next thing Blaine noticed was his _eyes_.

Those perfect eyes, the perfect combination of green and blue, a color that had been dubbed by the gods as _glasz_, that had captivated Blaine for so long stared out of a puffy red face. What seemed to be a black eye partially hid one of the crystalline orbs from his sight. They were so full of anguish and fear that it made Blaine want to cry. Then he saw the small, gleaming razor blade sitting half a foot away from the reclusive teen. Blaine tensed and Kurt trembled. That one little razorblade suddenly had all of Blaine's attention. His breathing grew shallower, his brain began to feel disconnected from his body. That little razorblade could have harmed Kurt. Could have _killed_ Kurt. The sudden wave of agony at the thought of such a thing was overwhelming. Cautiously, Blaine stepped into the room.

"Kurt?" his voice was soft and soothing. "Kurt, are you okay?" Kurt's eyes were wide and innocent as he stared back at Blaine. It was almost as though he didn't recognize his friend and mentor. Slowly and meekly, Kurt shook his head. Blaine crept closer and carefully knelt to the ground, trying not to frighten or upset the boy before him. He reached for the blade and moved it as far away as he could, feeling sick as he discreetly checked it for signs of blood. Thankfully there was none. As he drew closer to Kurt, he saw the discoloured splotches of bruises and the still glistening streaks of tears on his porcelain cheeks. Blaine had to restrain himself from tugging Kurt forcefully towards him into a hug, instead carefully reaching a hand out. "C-can I touch you?" Kurt hesitated, more tears filling his bloodshot eyes, but then nodded. Relief coursed through Blaine, and he scooted closer, enveloping the smaller boy's frame in a comforting hug. Kurt shuddered and curled into Blaine, sobs wracking his slender figure. Blaine's eyes closed as he tried to keep tears at bay. Kurt was safe. Kurt was here, with him. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Finn turning away from the doorway, a slight smile on his face. Blaine sighed and pulled Kurt closer, resting his chin on the boy's head.

"B-Blaine?" Kurt's voice was hoarse and weak, Blaine might not have heard it had he not been so close. "T-thank you. F-for everything," in response he received a squeeze, and what Kurt could have sworn were a pair of lips on his crown.

"Courage," Blaine whispered back, and slowly Kurt turned to face him. Those watery eyes stared up at Blaine, wonder filling them.

"Courage," Kurt repeated, and then looked down, almost embarrassed. Blaine, fearing that Kurt was hiding something from him, gently cupped the younger boy's chin and lifted it so that their eyes were locked. Hesitantly, Kurt reached up and brushed away one of the tears on Blaine's face. Blaine smiled gently.

"I was worried about you," he breathed, unsure what exactly it was, but there was something that he wanted to say. "A-are you okay?" Kurt released a shaky breath.

"I-I-" he couldn't seem to say whatever it was that he wanted to, so Blaine tugged him back against his chest, comforting him with soft, unintelligible crooning sounds.

"You're going to be okay," he soothed, resting his forehead against Kurt's crown.

"Am I?" came the barely audible response. It was so quiet that Blaine wasn't even certain that he had heard it. The absolutely broken tone of Kurt's voice made Blaine grip him tighter. Images flashed through his mind faster than he could blink. Kurt lying on the ground, wrists slit with blood pooling around him; Kurt curled up in a dark corner, sobbing; Kurt lying broken in an alley, his face barely recognizable through the bruises.

"I'm going to make sure you are." Blaine replied resolutely. "Because-" he cut himself off shakily and took a deep breath. It was now or never, he would never get the courage back up again. Never get the courage to say those three words that he was certain could change his life. "because I love you."

Kurt froze, as though he was now a statue in Blaine's arms. Blaine, however, was verging on a breakdown himself.

"W-what?" he finally choked out, not daring to turn around and face Blaine. Kurt was certain he'd heard him incorrectly. Blaine breathed deeply. It was all or nothing now, he supposed, and braced himself for the headfirst dive he was about to undergo.

"I love you." He stated again. "I don't know when it happened, somewhere between becoming your mentor and your friend, I fell for you. Maybe it was when I first saw you on the staircase, maybe it was when you sang 'Baby It's Cold Outside' with me, I don't know. All I know, is that I am completely in love with you Kurt Hummel." His heart was beating a million miles a minute as he waited fearfully for Kurt's response to his confession. Would he shove him away? Would he laugh? Would he _cry_? Was it too soon? What if whoever had hurt him had hurt him too deeply? Blaine's eyes snapped shut as he waited now for what he was certain would be a rejection.

The feeling of soft, slightly wet lips against his was the last thing that Blaine had expected. His eyes snapped open just as Kurt was pulling away, his face darkening even further with a blush.

"I-I love you too," Kurt mumbled, biting his lip. Blaine simply stared at him in shock, trying to get his body to move after the electricity of Kurt's lips. It was as though his entire world had shifted in that moment, shifted in a way that he knew would never change.

Kurt was covered in bruises, his one eye was nearly swollen shut, his cheeks were stained with drying tears and his nose was red from sniffling, but he had never appeared so beautiful as the moment when Blaine moved towards him, capturing his lips. Gently, Blaine reached up and cradled the back of Kurt's head, keeping him close as their lips melded together in sweet harmony.

"I love you," they breathed in unison as they pulled away, and Blaine smiled down at Kurt, his entire face lighting up in a way that Kurt had never seen.

"I'll always protect you," Blaine murmured, gently brushing the hair away from Kurt's swollen eye. Kurt smiled hesitantly.

"And I'll always protect you," he replied, taking Blaine's hand. "Someday, you'll be the damsel in distress, and I'll be your knight in shining armour." Blaine watched with slight awe as Kurt drew his hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. Scooting backwards so that he was leaning against Kurt's bed, Blaine held Kurt against his chest again, relishing in the warm breathing of the boy he loved. He felt Kurt sigh and snuggle into his chest, and he knew that no matter who tried to stop them, tried to tell them that they weren't right, they would have each other.

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_**AN: So there it is! What did you think? Reviews make me squeal, so you should all review ;) I have a few other Klaine stories up my sleeve, some as angsty, some not so much. I'll be posting them soon enough, but that's it for this one. Please review!**_

**_Cheers!_**

**_Cori_**

**_PS: This story has made me feel fuzzy inside, because you've all been so loving :D So thank you to everyone who read and reviewed and added to their Favorites/Story Alerts! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!_**

**__****_EDIT: Okay, there was a spelling mistake that was irking me to no end, so my inner spellcheck monster has surfaced. "dubbed by the gods as lass" is incorrect. That was supposed to say "dubbed by the gods as glasz." Seriously. Lass doesn't make ANY sense._**  



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